


The Blue Wedding

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [66]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x4 missing scene, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Season 8, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22086070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: You are all cordially invited to the auspicious occasion of Ser Jaime Lannister's union with Ser Brienne of Tarth.Venue : The Sept at Winter townTime : Early dusk, the day after tomorrowP.S : Gifts in the form of blessings only.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Many ways to say I love you [66]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1234904
Comments: 12
Kudos: 106





	The Blue Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhere along the weeks Jaime spent at Winterfell, they got married. It is known.

Brides were meant to be beautiful; the gods made sure of that at every wedding they blessed. A good number of them, Jaime had seen in his lifetime, but none was as lovely as the woman walking down the aisle to join him.

 _My Wench_. _My Brienne._ _My_ _bride_.

His heart swelled to twice its size as he watched her take one step after another towards their new destination, a life, a future they could both finally look forward to after years of silent looks of longing and painful farewells. Her ever astonishing eyes were twice as beautiful tonight, the colour of her bridal gown in perfect coordination with the vivid pools that could put the clear waters of the Sapphire isles to shame.

She looked like the woman she’d never let herself be, a little confident, a little shy, a little apprehensive, but with eyes full of love and dreams he would do anything to fulfil.

When she caught his gaze, a smile lit up her face, a touch of pleasant surprise and confusion in the slight crease on her forehead when she approached him. “I thought you would wear red and gold.”

He glanced down at the shade of blue he had donned to match the colour of her eyes. “Why? What’s wrong with this?”

“Isn’t it a tradition for a groom to wear his house colours on his wedding?” Her eyes came alive with a lovely glow, a look of admiration when she looked at him from top to toe, the ocean-blue reflecting the flickering candles surrounding them. It took him all the self-restraint he could gather to keep himself from grabbing her and kissing her senseless. “Is it not convention to place his cloak upon the shoulders of his wife to welcome her into his house, his life?”

“When have we ever cared much for tradition or conventions, my lady?” he asked, subtly reminding her that she was the first woman knight in the history of Westeros. “As for welcoming you, have I not done that already? Long ago? You barged into my life six years back, against my will, without my consent, and since then--” he glanced left and right, and when no one was looking, he narrowed the gap between them “--you’ve made yourself at home in my heart, evicting my head and my mind of everything but you--”

She brought his heartfelt confession to a halt with a girlish laugh, her eyes dancing when she said, “Now you’re taking this a little too far, exaggerating beyond limits.”

“I’m not,” he replied in so intense a tone that the playfulness was off her face.

“Jaime--”

Their conversation was brought to an abrupt stop by a forced cough beside them, louder than a normal one. “Shall we begin the ceremony?” the Septon asked, clearing his throat.

Embarrassed that they’d been acting like a lovesick couple half their age, they jumped apart, letting him take over the rest of the evening. 

Whatever happened next was a blur, a dream, something he had never expected to experience. The Septon said his words, and when instructed, Jaime placed his cloak upon his wife-to-be, blue instead of the red that convention demanded of him. 

A Tarth, he would come to be, with this unbreakable bond, and _hers_ , in every way he could.

And when they invoked the Seven, pledging themselves to each other until the end of their days, everything around them began diminishing, fading out of existence, more and more insignificant by the second. She was the only one that mattered. 

She was his world, not the ground he stood on or the air he breathed.

_I am hers and she is mine..._

_I am his and he is mine…_

The words kept ringing in his ears even after they had finished reciting them, never to be forgotten, forever to be treasured, to be honoured until death ripped them apart. And maybe even beyond that...

His _wife,_ she now was, and he kept repeating it in his mind until it sank into every bit of his consciousness, until it became one with the blood that ran through his veins. 

When he kissed her, sealing their union with his love, Jaime felt an elation he feared might cause his heart to explode. How did he manage to stay away from her all these years? How did he even imagine an existence without her?

And when she kissed him back, he wanted to hide her from every evil, every danger, every possible threat to her. He wanted to keep her safe and protect her, to give her the world and everything else he could. All his life he’d been obsessed with Cersei and her happiness, his family and his house, but now he wanted to live for himself. 

With Brienne now a part of him, he wanted to live for her.

The Septon proclaimed them husband and wife, bringing the proceedings to a fruitful end, but just as the gathering was about to disperse, Jaime announced, “I have something to say to my new wife.”

Silence prevailed again, all eyes on them, all ears listening in rapt attention.

“I’m just a broken knight, Lady Brienne,” he said, a part of him still doubting if he was worthy of her. “I have no Casterly Rock to offer you--”

Her voice cracked when she cut through his proclamation, “I don’t want Casterly Rock.”

“I bear nothing of the Lannister legacy other than my name.”

Her eyes were now deep into his, the affection in them filling him with a warmth so familiarly comforting that winter barely felt like winter whenever she looked at him like that. “To be one with you, is all I ask for, my lord, and your name and mine to be spoken as one.”

“I’m the Kingslayer,” he went on, still unable to get over it completely. “My dark past will forever remain a shadow over me, and now us--”

“Not as long as the light in our lives is bright enough to banish it,” she asserted with confidence and an air of finality. “You’re a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms,” she stressed, again, refusing to let him speak further, “my Oathkeeper, the saviour of my honour.”

He let her words sink in, let himself be carried away by the storm in her eyes. He let his eyes linger on her wondering what could he have possibly done to gain her for a wife. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, finally saying it, tearing open his heart and letting her know.

A gentle smile, this time, and a twinkle in her eye, she replied with, accompanied by a teasing, “You jest, Ser Jaime.”

“I do not,” he was quick to deny, memories of the countless insults he’d hurled at her, the numerous instances he had mocked her, driving a dagger of guilt into his chest. “And I never will again. Not with you, at least.” Unperturbed that a crowd around was standing witness to their conversation, watching and listening, Jaime tilted his face to hers. “I love you, my lady.”

Her lips parted, trembling slightly in anticipation. “You’ve been saying that almost every day, many times a day.”

He closed the remaining gap between them. “I know, and I’m going to keep saying it another countless times.” 

He pressed his mouth to hers, bringing their conversation to a satisfying end, showing her, yet again, how much he loved her. Far from the previous one, his kiss now was, not tender, but deep as he could go, not chaste, but filled with naked desire.

And she joined him, burning in the fire that consumed them both with a fervour not unlike that she’d shown the night he had bedded her, her sweet lips on his marking the beginning of the story of Ser Brienne and Ser Jaime of Tarth and Lannister.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
